


Faded

by geekyjez



Series: Isii Lavellan [17]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: All New Faded For Her, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3262076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Solas x Lavellan pre-relationship) Prompt fic. Covers the events of All New, Faded for Her and the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faded

**Author's Note:**

> Word prompt: "Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move."

It didn’t feel right, not having him there.

Despite his quiet nature, her world seemed uncomfortably silent in his absence. His newly claimed study lay empty, his books and papers still spread out as if he had simply walked away and vanished. There were the beginnings of a mural, a half-painted fresco of the explosion at the conclave, a pack of wolves howling up at a rough sketch of the eye of the Inquisition.

She wondered briefly if he’d ever finish it.

It had been over a week since she’d seen him. She did not worry for his safety. He was a skilled mage and an intelligent, capable man. It was not likely he would come to any harm. Solas was used to being on his own. She wondered briefly if he would prefer it that way. He had no reason to stay with the Inquisition, other than his altruism.

Perhaps that wasn’t enough of a reason now.

She walked the battlements slowly, telling herself that she needed an update from Cullen on his soldiers’ recent escort mission in the Dales. She could lie to herself and say that this was the only thing that drew her here, even as her eyes scanned the grounds of Skyhold and beyond. She searched the pathways one could take to return to the fortress, hoping to see some trace of him.  

The Commander’s voice did not fill her thoughts as he spoke, detailing the answer to her inquiry. Instead her mind drifted to the purity of Solas’s desperation as he begged for her to help him free his friend. She could hear the warnings from her Keeper, words mimicked by the shem mage who stood before them.  _Only a fool would release a demon from its binding, da’len._  But the look on his face, the plea caught tightly in his throat…

She chose to trust him.

She thought of the pride demon and the pale, tainted reflection of the spirit of Wisdom it left in its wake. She recalled the details of Solas’s grimace as his friend begged for death and the ache in his voice as he gave it. While the idea of having such an attachment to a spirit was foreign to her, she understood that sound – the strain in the throat and the murmur of loss; the kind of pain that hollows your insides. She tried to find something to say to him but her comforts fell on deaf ears as he focused his rage on the mages.

_“You tortured and killed my friend!” He advanced on them, his head dropping low in a glare, his shoulders tensing. His voice was a snarling growl, filled with a rage she had never heard from him before._

_“It was only a spirit-”_

_She could feel the sudden tug on the Veil, the chill in the air as breath steamed from his lips, fingertips tightening around his staff. She rushed forward, grabbing his arm. “Solas, stop.”_

_His head whipped around to face her. The look in his eyes frightened her, left her feeling frozen and hollow and her resolve faltered slightly. Still, she did not let go. “Vengeance won’t bring her back.” She said quietly._

_His lips curled, partway to a sneer as he shrugged her hand away, but she could see he was considering her words. Slowly the heat of his anger cooled, the sharp cold sting of his magic gradually dissipating. He turned his gaze back to the mages, each staring in stunned silence. “You will never tamper with spirits again.” His voice was low, guttural, punctuating each word with an unspoken threat. “Do I make myself clear?”_

_The mages did little more than stammer and flee. He stilled, watching them go. She reached out to him again but he jerked away from her touch. “Don’t.”_

_“Solas - ”_

_“I need some time alone.” He said, his face hardening as he pulled away. “Return to Skyhold without me.”_

_“Lethallin-”_

_“I said go.” He snapped, glancing only briefly at her before turning and storming off. He was irritated, but not motivated by anger. Instead, his face read only of exhausted grief. She knew that feeling well and it hurt to see it etched so deeply into his eyes. She wanted to run after him, to wrap her arms around him, even though she knew he would fight her._

_She knew what it was like to have to be reminded that you are not alone._

The sound of Cullen softly clearing his throat suddenly snapped her awareness back to the present moment. He was looking at her, a mixture of concern and amusement on his face. “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said, have you?”

She smiled apologetically, letting out a huff of laughter. “Sorry.” She said, shaking her head, pulling her gaze from the narrow window. Even as her mind wandered, her eyes had been searching for him. “It’s been a long day, I guess.”

He studied her knowingly, clearly unimpressed with the excuse. “Still no word, I take it?”

She frowned. “Of what?”

“Solas.” He rested his hands on the hilt of his sword, leaning back against the edge of his desk. “You’ve been quite distracted ever since you left to help him with his…  _friend_.” He said, a significant note of discomfort in his voice. “Don’t take this as any kind of slight, but I was not aware the two of you were close.”

“We’re not.” She answered quickly, then hesitated. “He’s just…” She searched for the right word. He was a companion, an advisor, a teacher. He was falon. Lethallin. Yet each of these did not seem to capture the meaning she sought. “I consider him a good friend. He was clearly in a lot of pain when I last saw him. It just has me concerned. Now,” she began, striding with purpose to lean over his desk, “you said something about Emprise du Lion?”

Cullen studied her for a moment as she sifted through his soldiers’ reports. His lips parted to speak, but his words lost their resolve. He shook his head with a quiet sigh, turning to pick up the message from their scouts near Sahrnia.

***

He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as he stepped past the gates of Tarasyl’an Te’las. Such an ancient place. Not as old as him. But then, very few things were.

Mourning was a part of his being, a core tenant of his nature. Time stretched out into eternity and pulled back into stark nothingness. He had seen its expanse, witnessed the passing of ages. But nothing remained constant. Even immortals could die. Even those who called themselves gods could fall. To attach oneself to the world was a passive acceptance to receive pain – be it in the present or in the distant future. Time shifts and moves on and yet one never truly forgets. He could still remember the faces of those long dead, those forgotten by all others, whose names were never spoken even in the deepest whispers of the Fade.

And yet, he remembered.

There was a part of him that wanted to slip quietly into Skyhold, as if his presence or previous absence would go unnoticed. Simply resume his role within the Inquisition and behave as if nothing had happened.

It would be easier that way.

He did not want to face looks of sympathy or of judgment. He knew he would receive both. The few who were there witnessed his grief as well as his rage – a hint of the beast he did not wish to reveal. Those who were not, but knew of the situation, would be suspicious of his association with a demon. His disgust with the simplicity of their understanding wore at him, made him feel the weight of his age. They could not understand what he had lost.

Wisdom had been with him since before the fall. One of his oldest friends.

One of the few he was not forced to betray.

He spotted Isii’s quick descent down the stone steps ahead, her eyes clearly locked on him. He lowered his gaze, slowly rehearsing words to say in the inevitable conversation with her. She would ask him where he had been, what he was doing there. Perhaps she would be angry with him for leaving or frightened by his display of force. She might question his loyalty to the Inquisition based on his sudden departure. He prepared for these possibilities, recognizing that she would be within her right to ask him for an explanation.

“Inquisitor,” he greeted, nodding his head respectfully as the distance between them lessened.

Her eyes looked heavy with worry as she searched his face. “How are you, Solas?”

“It hurts,” he admitted coolly. “It always does. But I will survive.”

“Part of me was afraid you weren’t coming back.”

“I wouldn’t abandon you.” The words passed his lips without thought. She looked reassured, a small pleased hope brightening her eyes ever so slightly. His stomach tightened. “I made a promise to help the Inquisition.” He added, trying to sound a little more impersonal. “It is a promise I intend to keep.”

“I just wanted to…” she paused, biting her lip as her brow tightened. She was looking for something to say and clearly found the task difficult. “I’m sorry.” She offered quietly. Her tone was sincere. Empathetic. “I know… I mean, I don’t know exactly what you are feeling. No one can but you. But I’ve lost people before and… I just…” She hesitated again. “I’m sorry, this isn’t coming out quite as clearly as I wanted it to.”

She looked into his face, her expression soft but pained. This was not the interrogation he had been expecting. She was waiting for him to speak, glancing down awkwardly as he remained silent, looking apologetic that her words were not sufficient comfort.

For once, he didn’t know what to say.

“Is there something I can do for you?” She asked. “I can’t change what happened but… is there some way I can help?”

“You have done enough.” He said with a simple nod. “I appreciate that you did everything you could for me.”

“I just wish there was something more I could offer you.” She said, taking a hesitant step forward.

He studied her as the distance between them narrowed. There was something she could offer him, something she already offered by drawing near. Her touch alone would be a comfort. To feel warmth, to have someone to keep him in the present moment, to escape his grief for a time with something as simple as an embrace. To hold or be held mattered little. Either would help him forget, for a time, that he was alone.

He could see that she would give this to him willingly if he asked.

“There is no need.” He said, shaking his head. “I have already taken my time to grieve.”

“The next time you have to mourn, you don’t have to be alone.”

“I will remember that.” He lowered his gaze. “It’s been so long since I could trust someone…”

The warmth of her hand as it slipped into his drew his eyes back to her face. When she spoke, her voice was soft. Compassionate. “I know.”

_No, falon. You truly don’t._


End file.
